Page 23 of Bratva Baby

I glance at my phone one last time before tossing it on the dresser. Fine. If seduction is what it takes, then I’ll do it. But I’ll do it on my terms. It’s not about pleasing him; it’s about keeping my sister safe from my father’s manipulations.

The hallway is quiet when I step out of my room. I’ve taken off my pajamas and changed into a slip of black lace that barely covers my body. That ought to get Grigor’s attention. Anxiety churns in my gut. This is insane. I’m a virgin, for crying out loud. Not some expert in seducing men. The only time Grigor and I shared any intimacy was that night when desire overrode my anger. Now I’m trying to harness that, hoping to coax him into letting down his guard.

I near the door where I know he sleeps. Since our wedding, he hasn’t demanded I share his bed. I took over his master suite, and he’s been relegated to a guest room. We’ve been stuck in this standoff, neither of us willing to close the distance. Tonight, I plan to break that, whether it ends with me out in the hallway, humiliated, or with him speaking to me like I’m not just a burden for a change.

A guard stationed near the end of the corridor glances my way. I force a scowl, daring him to comment on my attire. He looks away fast. Good. One less person to annoy me. When I reach Grigor’s door, I pause for a moment, trying to breathe through my heart rattling in my chest. Part of me wants to flee back to my room and curl up under the sheets. But my father’s threat pushes me forward.

I twist the knob. It’s unlocked. After slipping inside, I shut it quietly. The room is dark, with only the moonlight from outside providing any light. I let my eyes adjust and take in the sight of Grigor sprawled on his bed with his sheets barely covering his lower half. His broad shoulders and chest are on display, and I glimpse the defined ridges of muscle leading downhis abdomen. He must be naked beneath the sheets. A flush of heat tinges my skin, and my nerves spike again. The memory of his touch, his mouth on mine, rushes back. Despite my plan, I feel a stab of genuine desire flutter through me.

He’s fast asleep, judging by his steady breathing. A gun rests on the nightstand—no surprise there. He always keeps a weapon within reach. I swallow as adrenaline zips through my veins. He’s not someone to approach lightly while unconscious, especially given the world he lives in. But I’ve come this far, and turning back now means giving up on my best chance at gleaning information and ensuring Cecily’s safety.

Stepping closer, I peel the lace slip up a bit, letting it show more of my legs, as though I need more exposure. Honestly, this already feels like too much. My cheeks burn, but I remind myself it’s just a tactic. This is for Cecily, I tell myself, ignoring the guilt at how I’m using this to manipulate Grigor.

I round the edge of the bed, trailing my eyes over his sculpted body. My heart does a flip when I see the outline of his arousal beneath the sheets, thick and unapologetically male. He’s erect even while sleeping. My core clenches at the sight. Damn it. This was supposed to be a simple, detached move, but my body betrays me by growing warm with anticipation. I push the feeling down or try to.

When I reach the side of the bed, I pause, uncertain how to proceed. Should I climb on top of him? Whisper his name? Taking a breath, I ease onto the mattress, careful not to jar him awake. My fingers reach out, longing to stroke the hard planes of his chest, but an irrational fear grips me. Of what, I’m not sure, so I chalk it up to inexperience.

I steel my nerves and let my fingertips hover over his skin. Before I can make contact, his eyes snap open, dark and alert. Ina flash, he moves. One arm shoots out, capturing my wrist in a bruising grip. Then, before I can blink, he’s on his feet, pinning me back against the wall. My head hits the plaster, and my breath whooshes out of me.

A metallic click registers in my frantic mind as he presses the cold muzzle of a gun to my temple. My pulse hammers. I freeze, and terror pierces me like an icy spear.

“Who the—” he growls. Then his gaze locks onto my face, and I see the instant he realizes it’s me. He lowers the gun with a shaky hand and asks, “Seraphina?”

I suck in a breath. My heart is racing so fast I can barely speak. “Grigor—I—”

He exhales and tosses the pistol onto the bed, where it plops against the sheets. “Damn it,” he mutters, stepping back but still keeping one hand on my shoulder as though he’s not sure whether I’ll flee. His eyes drag over my barely clad body, but he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “What do you think you’re doing, creeping up on me like that?”

“I needed—I wanted—” Words stick in my throat. The plan was to be seductive, to slip under the covers and offer him my body. But the cold reality of his gun pressed to my head leaves me reeling.

And that’s not the only thing that has me flustered. He’s naked, and my eyes can’t help darting down, and sure enough, he’s still half-erect. The sight makes a fresh wave of desire course through me, but it’s overlaid with the panicked realization that he nearly killed me on reflex.

“Are you insane?” he demands. “Sneaking in here in the middle of the night? Do you have a death wish?”

“I knocked,” I lie. “You didn’t answer. I thought… maybe I could…” My cheeks flame with embarrassment, and my words stumble to a halt. I’m not about to tell him I came to seduce him for information, so I stay silent, letting him fill in the blanks however he likes.

His grip relaxes on my shoulder, though his expression remains stormy. “I almost shot you. Don’t ever do that again.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, because I genuinely am. That was reckless. No matter my motivations, I know how jumpy men in this world can be. I should’ve anticipated his reaction. My father’s threats wouldn’t matter if I ended up dead at my husband’s hand.

He heaves a ragged breath and drops his head. His gaze roams over my lace slip again, lingering at the swell of my breasts where my nipples threaten to spill out. He swallows hard, and I don’t miss the hunger appearing in his eyes. My own pulse reacts, and an unwelcome flush creeps across my skin.

For a moment, we stand locked in that charged silence, with the gun lying on the bed just inches away. My plan seems ridiculous now. I want to run, but there’s a strange magnetism to him, standing before me in the nude. My heart rate refuses to slow down.

“Grigor?” His name comes out small and unsure.

His eyes flit to mine. They’re filled with raw desire. “Yes?”

I bite my lip, debating. If I’m going to pull this off, I can’t leave now.

My next words are barely a whisper, yet they carry so much weight. “Touch me.”

His brows furrow, and he looks like he’s about to argue. I can almost hear him ask me why, after all our tension, wouldI allow him near me like this. But the longer we stare at each other, the less he fights it.

“Please,” I add.

He lets out a shuddering breath and closes the little bit of distance between us.

He’s taller than me, and when his face is inches from mine, he bends, pressing his lips against my neck. His hot mouth sends a thrill of need through me. My skin breaks out in goosebumps, and his teeth nip at the sensitive skin behind my ear. I can’t hold back a gasp, and a rush of damp heat pools between my legs.

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